


Diplomatic Departure

by Regency



Category: 24 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Day 6, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 15:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1783264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen has to spread goodwill for America where there is none; that means leaving Bill again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diplomatic Departure

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, setting, or quotes recognizable as being from 24l. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.

                He’d made the trip to Washington to see her off.  Around 1 a.m. he’d shown up on her doorstep, exhausted, but smiling and missing her terribly.  She’d stared at him with sleep-dulled senses until her frazzled nerves made the connection between reality and the dream she’d had for the last four months. There he was.  Her reaction was instantaneous: she threw herself into his arms with so much force they staggered on the front steps of her condo.  She felt his laughter in her chest as it filled her ears. The phone hadn’t done the sound justice.

 

                After long minutes of companionable silence, they pulled away from each other and couldn’t think of anything to say.  Karen stroked his finely-starched sleeves affectionately, having missed their stuffy presence. It was the little things that made the heart grow fonder.  Neither terrorist attacks nor five-hour flights could melt the cool, calm demeanor that told the world Bill Buchanan had everything under control.  Only she knew how much of an act it was.

 

                He brushed her disheveled blond hair away from her face.  She cupped his hand around her cheek.  Looking up, she almost couldn’t see his eyes for the brightness of the moon.

 

                “I don’t want you to go,” he admitted, hoarse from too many hours spent in sullen worry for her, she imagined.

 

                Emboldened by a cool breeze, she slid her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder.  He rubbed her back.

 

                “I know. If there was another option, I’d take it.”

 

                He sighed and held her tighter.  “You wouldn’t,” he declared.  She surrendered to the ultimate truth. He knew her that well.  They’d spent half a dozen phone calls debating the merits of her setting foot in the Middle East in the hopes of rebuilding America’s nonexistent goodwill with the people in the region.  Her argument was simple: The Vice-President had obliterated any standing they had recently gained in the global community and someone had to fix it.  No one else seemed to care enough.  His argument was equally succinct: Karen was the National Security Advisor, not the Secretary of State.  She had been appointed to advise, not to negotiate.  She responded that she would not negotiate, but would show community and state leaders in the war-torn nations that the Leader of the Free World cared about their trials.  The new President had given his consent. He no longer trusted the reports he received through federal channels.  He trusted Karen to tell him the truth, however bloody.

 

                When his logical arguments failed, he could only appeal as her husband.  Aside from her being a woman in such a powerful position within the U.S. government, she was the epitome of an all-American girl: blonde, blue-eyed with legs that stretched all the way to the ground.  Hurting her, Bill argued, sent exactly the message they’d been expecting to receive.

 

                To his concern, she only responded with silence.  She’d known all along that this was a dangerous undertaking, as was any time when a government official chose to set foot in a hostile nation.  Karen Hayes was nothing if not a willful.  She had determined before now that she would be doing this, whatever the consequences.  She felt she owed it to her fallen President.  Wayne Palmer had died via the same cruelty that had prematurely ended his brother’s presidency years before, at the hands of a trusted advisor and far too soon.  She also felt she owed it to Jack Bauer and Morris O’Brien—a part of her even felt she owed it to Tom Lennox, who, in spite of himself and his misguided beliefs, had wanted the very best for his country.  She still mourned his passing in her own way.  She couldn’t knowingly turn her back on the chance to make amends with the world-at-large.

 

                “I love you, Bill.  Of everything I’ve done these last two years, I know that with complete certainty.  This trip is a leap of faith, I know that, but if I don’t go, I will regret it.  It will haunt me. You may not understand it, now or ever, but I would be so grateful if I could just have your support.  I’m pretty sure I’ll need it.”

 

                “Okay,” he nodded, seriously.  He held on even tighter.  “It’s all yours.”

 

                She laughed and pulled away to look into his eyes.  “That was easier than I expected.”  At his grim expression, she sighed.  “I know you’re scared. I am, too. But we can’t go into this thinking that it’ll be a disaster.  It may go spectacularly.”  There she was, with her completely unbelievable optimism. It was more for his sake than hers.

 

                “And it may not.  The ‘may not’ is what scares me.  Karen, somewhere between Presidential assassinations and near-miss nuclear catastrophes, you became the center of my life.  I can’t tell you how hard it is to sleep, counting down in my head, the worst that could happen.  That’s exactly what I’ll be doing, from the moment you cross into Middle Eastern airspace until you set foot back in D.C. I won’t sleep, likely won’t eat, and my work will suffer—“

 

                She scoffed.

 

                He raised his eyebrows indignantly.  “You doubt my devotion to worrying about you.”

 

                She waved him off. “No, but I know for a fact that nothing will deter you from doing your job to the utmost. You’re at your best in a crisis.  CTU is your domain.  Your work won’t suffer, even if you spend every moment of your time envisioning the very worst that could happen to me.  And, you know what, Bill?”

 

                “What?”

               

                “That’s why I feel safe going.  Whatever happens, you can handle it.  You and your field agents have everything under control. The work goes on.”

 

                He leaned down and kissed her forehead.  “But not without you.  In the end, never without you.”

 

                She smiled and laid her head back onto his shoulder.  It wasn’t that she doubted his word, but sometimes Bill embodied the phrase  _I know you better than I’ve ever known myself_. His heart might break at her loss, but he never would. That was one of the thing she loved about him.

 

                “Come on, let’s go inside.”  She pulled him towards the door and he didn’t hesitate to follow.

                “It’s the longest night of the year,” he whispered into her ear.

                “Perfect,” she whispered back.  Because she was leaving in the morning, and she wanted every moment she could get.

                Goodbye had never been harder.


End file.
